


Pearls are not Jewels

by nunyabhiznus



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:34:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29790624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nunyabhiznus/pseuds/nunyabhiznus
Summary: What happens when a case of mistaken identity causes a woman from Earth to be wanted by some of the most dangerous people in the galaxy?Including a crime syndicate, bounty hunters, and a Mandalorian who travels with a small, green child.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You, The Mandalorian/Reader, The Mandalorian/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Before we begin, I want to point out some things out about this story.  
> First, I know Star Wars takes place "In a galaxy far, far away," but for the sake of wanting to write a cool, fun story for everyone, let's just assume that Earth is in that galaxy somewhere in the unknown regions.  
> Second, because I'm putting Earth in the unknown regions, no one there knows about everything that's been going on in the galaxy, and everyone in the galaxy knows very little about Earth. So basically, Earth is exactly the same as you're living it right now except the Star Wars movies do not exist. Please let me know if this second point makes sense. If it doesn't, I'll be glad to clear it up.  
> Third, this is my first Star Wars fic so I'll be doing the best I can to keep the information as authentic as possible. Wookiepedia has become my best friend for this project. 
> 
> Thank you!

Jules Taxo was on the run. 

This was nothing new for her, though. At any given moment she was either being sought out by republic officials or hunted down by someone who wanted revenge. But she was quick, smart, and deadly so no one could ever catch up to her; an ability that she prides herself in and one she hopes will get her out of her current situation. 

But as she looks out the window through curtains barely parted enough to view the street, she couldn’t help but feel like this time things were different. She had never been chased down by someone _this_ important before. If she wants to get out of this situation alive, she’ll need every part of her plan to work perfectly. 

“Are you sure you want to go through with the procedure?” 

The doctors question pulls her away from the window, her hand dropping the curtains making the room slightly darker than it was before. 

When she faces him, the Rodian sinks into his chair with a fear she knew was not brought on by the change in lighting. 

Normally, Jules would’ve basked in the power trip that her reputation usually took her on, but she knew she was running out of time. Those who were after her would eventually track her to this planet, so she needs to finish what she came here to do and keep moving. 

Digging her hand into her pocket, she threw the doctor a small pouch. Its contents ringing throughout the small room in the universal language of greed. 

“Your payment,” she states, answering his question. “There are extra credits in the bag for your continued discretion.” 

Not that she actually expects it. There was no doubt in her mind that someone with more credits would come along and convince him to release the information. In fact, she was counting on him to eventually give her up for her plan to fully function. 

The doctor peers inside the pouch and seeming satisfied, turns around to activate the nurse droid that would assist him during the procedure. 

He clears his throat, facing her again, “What would you like to have done?” 

Jules takes out a disk from her pocket and activates a hologram. 

“Can your nano droids make me look like her?”

“The complete facial transformation will render you identical,” he says observing the woman in the hologram with curiosity. “I should advise you that it’s a painful process.” 

“Just do it,” She orders and doesn’t wait to be told before laying down on the examination table. 

With a sigh, the doctor nods to the nurse droid who holds Jules down by the shoulders, pressing her down on the table. 

_If this worked_ , she thought with a sick smile forming on her face, _they’d never find her_. 

A small hiss escapes her lips as the doctor inserts a needle into her neck. At first, she felt nothing, but after a few seconds she began thrashing around the table as the nano droids began to reconstruct her face one fracture at a time. The hold of the nurse droid was the only thing that kept her on the table as she yelled in pain. And then it was over just as soon as it began. 

Her chest heaved up and down as the pain slowly crept away until all she was left with was a dull headache. The doctor slowly hands her a mirror as she sits up and looks at the unfamiliar face staring back at her. 

The smirk she saw reflected was foreign, belonging to the woman in the hologram. Jules turns her new face side to side and admires the work. 

“Who is she?” The doctor asks, slowly backing away now that his usefulness is over. 

“Oh nobody,” she says coyly. “Just some dead girl from the planet Earth.” 

With those details carefully shared, Jules leaves the doctor to his credits as she wears her new identity through the busy streets. 

Confident that her disguise works, and no one was following her, she returns to her ship and punches in the coordinates to her next location. The last phase of her plan. 

Jules Taxo was heading for Earth. 

***

When you can’t open your eyes as soon as you wake up, the first thing you assume is that you’re dead. That the never ending black you see is a dreary afterlife and not your heavy eyelids. 

As feeling starts to come back to your limbs and you’re slowly able to make out blurry shapes in front of you, you realize that you are still very much alive. Your racing heart is a clear indication of that. 

Your legs give out as soon as you try to stand and what little you can make out of the room starts to spin. You rest your hand on your chest, letting your fingers grasp at the necklace hanging around your neck. A subconscious habit you had when you were nervous. It’s then that you realize that your hands are tied together. 

_Well, not tied_ , you sluggishly observe. _More like... handcuffed?_

Adrenaline heightens your numbed senses instantly and you realize that you’re in the corner of a dark room. The wall opposite of where you’re sitting has a bunch of strange panels and buttons that give off faint lights, which fail miserably at lighting up the space. Listening closely, you could hear the faint hum of machinery surrounding you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say it looked like the inside of a spaceship from a sci-fi movie. 

_How did this happen?_ Taking in deep breaths, you try and piece together the events prior to waking up wherever you were. 

The day had started off just like every other weekday. 

You remember pulling into your jobs parking lot. You were late. Still, you felt you could turn the day around as long as no one noticed you coming in. Ironically enough, you’re wishing for the exact opposite of that right now. Surely somebody had to be wondering where you were. Your thoughts immediately went to your family as you fiddled with the pearl around your neck. What would they think happened to you?

You remember barely getting out of your car when someone grabbed you from behind, holding a hand over your mouth to prevent you from screaming. 

You remember feeling a shock throughout your body. Was it a shock? _Stunned_ was a better word to describe what you felt - like you could no longer control your limbs as your vision went black.

And then you were waking up. 

The sound of voices bring your thoughts to the present. You can’t hear the conversation, only a muffled dialogue, but you can tell that whoever is talking is just beyond the walls of the room. Although you already know you’re wrong, you hope that help will come through those doors when they open anyways. 

There’s a beeping sound coming from the other side and you know that your captors, or saviors (you’re trying to be optimistic), will walk in any second. 

Despite the fear you’ve felt since you woke up, you try to put on a brave face, but as soon as the door slides open the light that floods in the room makes your face scrunch up instead. 

_So much for brave_ , you think as you blink your eyes a couple of times to get them adjusted to the brightness. 

Two men you’ve never seen before were now standing in front of you. You gasp as you take in their appearance that was unlike anything you’ve ever seen. 

They looked like human men if humans had blue skin and white hair. Intricate black tattoos covered every exposed piece of skin, wrapping around their necks and reaching to the ends of their fingertips. Their massive stature did not escape your notice either. Both men were easily at least six feet tall (or taller) and heavily built. They wore all black, but the one on the right was wearing what looked like a long-sleeved leather jacket, while the one on the left wore a vest that allowed you to see more of the tattoos on his arms. Both men were also staring at you with sick grins. 

You were scared before but now you were terrified. _What the hell was going on?_

With the initial shock already wearing off, you realize that staring at them would get you nowhere. Scrambling to stand up, you did your best to not look as intimidated as you felt. 

“Where am I?” You ask, hating how small you sound.

The one wearing the leather jacket took a step forward and you instinctively took a step back. Your back met with the wall and you jump at the contact. Leather Jacket seemed pleased with knowing you were scared of him. 

“You got caught, Jules,” he sneers, his voice a deep sound that cut through the room. 

_Wait a minute._

“Jules?” You question, suddenly more confused than afraid. “My name’s not Jules.” 

“Nice try, doll face, but it’s going to take a lot more than a facial reconstruction to hide from Black Sun,” scoffs the one in the vest. 

You blink back with eyebrows raised. _Doll face?_

“Look,” you start, getting closer to them with newfound courage. Where it came from, you had no clue, but you weren’t about to question it. “You‘ve got the wrong person. You have to let me go!” 

“Your little trick isn’t going to work on us,” Vest snaps. “I’ll admit, going to a planet in the unknown regions was impressive, but you’re losing your touch.” 

Leather Jacket smirked down at you and you narrow your eyes at him. 

“Yeah, you were too easy to find,” he shoves your shoulder, effortlessly pushing you back. 

“Don’t touch me!” You hiss. 

This entire ordeal was starting to chip away at your patience. 

“I have no idea what you two are talking about,” you say through gritted teeth. “Let. Me. Go.” 

Neither of them responds, just continue to look down on you with smug expressions. Scoffing, you start to make your way to the door anyways, frustrated in your lack of understanding, but they block your path. 

Standing side by side, the two blue men left no way to get through.

“You’re staying right here.” 

A command, you notice. _And a threat_. Especially when Leather Jacket turns to Vest and pulls him to the side of the room, leaving the doorway exposed. He clearly wasn’t worried about you making a run for it. And he was right. As taunting an idea as it was, you weren’t dumb enough to try it. They’d catch you before you got one foot out the door. Besides, your hands were still cuffed. 

No. If you wanted to escape, you’d have to do it differently. 

“Call L-1 over here to watch her while we’re out,” you hear him say before they both walk out of the room, the door sliding shut behind them. Once again, the room was dark. 

You ran to the door then. The two men were still talking, so you put your ear to it to try and hear them better.

“L-1!” Called out Vest. Even though he yelled, you could still barely hear through the steel door. You press your ear harder against it hoping your lack of visuals will encourage your ears to hear better. 

“We’re going out while the ship refuels to get supplies. Stay with the bounty, and don’t let her leave the ship. We’ll be back in a few hours.” 

There was a response, but you couldn’t make it out, either because of the steel barrier or because of their tone of voice. Your brows furrowed. Yet another thing to not understand.

The sound of heavy steps were getting closer to the door and you back away just in time for the door to slide open again. 

At first you think the silhouetted figure is another man, but as the light settles around the room again you stood mouth gaping at another unfamiliar sight. It isn’t a man at all, more a machine. _A robot?_

_What the hell was happening?_

The robot advances passed the door frame and you quickly back up until you feel the wall pressed behind you, wanting to put as much space between you and it. The way it moved was not slow and clunky like you always imagined a robot would move. This one reminded you of those creepy Claymation movies where everything was always just slightly off. When the robot stops in the middle of the room you let out a shaky breath. Relief filling your senses.

You can’t bring yourself to look away from the robot, afraid that if you did for even a second it would start going towards you again. Its appearance is unnerving. The thing itself was not much taller than you and it was noticeable how some of its dull yellow paint was chipping off its metal exterior. It’s the headpiece that keeps you locked in place. Through a dark opening in its head, two orange, lifeless lights stare back at you. 

Your thoughts were racing almost as fast as your heart. “What are you?” 

“I am L-1,” it says in a low robotic voice.

“A general service droid,” it adds for clarification. 

“Not a guard or a bounty hunter droid as they seem to think.” 

_Was that sarcasm?_

“But that doesn’t mean you can try anything, Ms. Taxo.” L-1 brought up a small gun and you flinch. “I can still stun you with my blaster.” 

A dangerous idea starts to form in your head. Now that the two men were gone, you figure that you’d have a better chance at escaping with only the droid guarding you. L-1 said it himself, he wasn’t even a guard droid. Time to see if you could outsmart a machine. 

“I need to go to the bathroom,” you blurt out trying to look at L-1’s face instead of the gun (or did he call it a blaster?) he kept pointed at you. 

“That is none of my concern,” L-1 responds sharply. 

“Well,” you start to say, forcing yourself to be more confident. “If I don’t go to the bathroom soon, I’ll end up soiling myself.” You sigh dramatically and add a shrug for good measure. 

“I don’t think they’ll be too happy to see that when they come back.” 

“No... They won’t,” L-1 agrees, though you could hear it was quite forced. You need to say more. 

“And they’d blame you for the mess,” you quickly add. “Might even shut you down.” You hope that was a thing that happened to robots and not just something you pulled out of your ass. 

“Maker! You’re right!” L-1 exclaims. “I’ll be deactivated because of you!” 

L-1 quickly lowers the blaster gun and grabs your cuffs, all but dragging you out of the room by them. 

“There’s a lavatory on board the ship,” he says while you struggle to keep up with his quick strides. “I’ll never understand you _organics_! How many bodily functions do you even need? It’s not very efficient at all!” 

When you reach another set of doors, L-1 let go of your cuffs and points the blaster gun at you again. 

“Get your business done quickly,” he orders. “We have to return to the other room.” 

You try your best to make an innocent face as you hold up your cuffed hands. 

“I can’t go to the bathroom with these things on.” 

“I cannot remove them,” he states. “You will try and escape if I do.” 

“I can’t!” You point out. “You’re guarding the door. Plus, you have a blaster, and I don’t. You can just take these cuffs off, I can go to the bathroom, and then put them back on when I’m done.” 

His silence was eerie, emphasizing the fact that you have no way of knowing what was going on behind the metal exterior. Did he realize what you were doing? 

“After that, we’ll walk back to the room and it’ll be like none of this ever happened.” 

L-1 lowers the blaster again and uncuffs your wrists. _Yes!_ You try your best to hide your excitement. The door to the bathroom slid open and closes again once you step inside. 

“Don’t take too long!” L-1 orders through the door. 

“I won’t!” You respond, rubbing your wrists where the cuffs had irritated your skin. 

_Okay . . . Now what?_

You take a second you don’t have to process everything that’s happened. The pieces of information you have don’t make any sense to you but they’re all you have to go on. So far, you are certain of three things: 

First, everyone thought you were some lady named Jules Taxo. 

You gather she is not very popular. Vest had referred to you as a bounty before. You got a sick feeling in your stomach. They want to sell you? Or rather, sell Jules but they thought she was you? You were getting a headache trying to wrap your brain around the situation you were in. 

Second, you think you were abducted by aliens.

The idea sounds farfetched, even to you, but those guys were _blue_. BLUE! And they mentioned something about Jules going to a different planet - was she also an alien? Anyways, there was also the way that L-1 called your location a ship. Even with your lack of understanding you realize this place looks more technologically advanced than anything you’d ever seen on Earth. 

And third, robots were real. (You remember it called itself a droid) 

And not very smart. And the one you just met was waiting for you outside the door. 

_Right. Back to business._

You couldn’t bust through the door and hope to fight against the droid. Even without the restriction of your cuffs, it had a gun. _There goes plan A._

_Okay, plan B._ Was there another door? You frantically start to look around. There’s nothing else in the room except a strange looking tube seat you assume is the toilet. No other doors. 

But there is a vent above you. _Plan C!_ And it looks large enough for you to fit through. You stand on the tube seat and do your best to move the railings without making any noise. You thank God when you see it isn’t bolted to the ceiling and easily slides off. You’ll have to jump in order to create enough of a boost to hoist yourself up. Bending your knees, you get a feel for the movement. 

_Okay._ You took a deep breath. _3_ _. . . 2 . . ._

“Are you almost done?!” L-1’s annoyed voice yells through the door. 

You nearly lose your balance on the seat as you curse, and your hands fly out to steady yourself with the walls. You almost forgot about the droid. 

“Just another minute!” You respond, keeping your voice as calm as possible. “I can’t go if you keep pressuring me!” 

You don’t try to listen for his response, but you know he mumbled something. Forgetting the countdown, the renewed sense of urgency gives you all the preparation you need to jump up and reach for the vent. Although it’s not much, you use all your upper body strength to haul yourself up to the vent system. Once your torso is inside, you shimmy the rest of your body in as well.

Looking ahead, the ships vent system looks like a small tunnel. You quickly start to crawl through the vent, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to keep up your trick the next time L-1 said something. Finding a way out was your main objective as you navigate through the maze of vents. You have no idea where you are going but you try your best keep quiet and increase the distance between you and the droid. 

In one of your turns, you see the vents getting more illuminated. Following the light, you nearly start crying when you see the end of the vent. Through the railing, you could see that it led outside. Kicking the vent out, you throw yourself out of the ship. 

When you land on the ground, the impact on your knees was felt strongly and you grit your teeth in pain. You gasp at your surroundings, forgetting all about your discomfort. Spaceships of varying sizes were all around, lined up in neat stations where they were plugged in to large towers.

_You can sight see later! Run!_

Shaking your head, you start to run for it in the opposite direction of the ship you just escaped from. Something in the back of your mind was reminding you that you have no clue where you are, or where you’re going, but all you care about is getting as far away from that ship as possible. You never want to see it again. 

You run until your lungs burn and your legs feel like jelly. The ship station was far behind you now but since you could still see it in the distance, it was still too close for comfort. Ahead of you, strange clay brown buildings stand against the surrounding dessert terrain. There’s nowhere else to go so you ignore your screaming legs and keep running towards it. 

Two of the large clay buildings make a sort of entrance gate to a city bustling with movement behind them. You thought you were incapable of being surprised anymore, yet you were proved wrong when you stumble into the middle of an active marketplace. You stand frozen in the middle of the street, watching with wide eyes the many booths and stands around you. 

You were baffled by the number of new things you were seeing. The stands were selling strange objects and foods you couldn’t begin to describe. All around you strange creatures, each one more different than the last, visited the booths and exchanged goods. You even saw more droids walking among them. 

Too astonished to even notice, you are unaware of how in the way you are of everything and how much you stick out like a sore thumb. Every so often, an alien bumps into you and glares. Probably wondering why, you, a lone woman in strange clothes, stopped to stand in the middle of a busy street. It wasn’t until one of them had begun to yell at you in a language you didn’t understand that you snap out of it. 

You shake your head and stutter out an apology before quickly moving around him and further down the marketplace. It seemed to go on for miles as unfamiliar sights, sounds, and smells add to your confusion. Everything around you blurs together in a mess of too many new experiences. Stand vendors would go up to you and shove products in your face, trying to convince you to buy them, and the crowds would push you further along the market before you even had a chance to decline. It was exhausting and disorienting. 

When you finally stagger to the end of the market, forcing all of its commotion behind you, you were able to round the corner of a nearby building into an abandoned alleyway. Leaning against its wall, you catch your breath and struggle to even out your frantic breathing. 

There was no time to freak out. You remind yourself that there are still people after you. _No. After Jules._

With no bearings and nothing but the clothes on your back, you figure that if you let yourself freak out now, you’d never make it. 

Somehow, you’d have to get as far away from them as possible. And possibly even harder, find a way back home

***

Din Djarin had never gotten along with Jules Taxo.

He thought her extremely unpleasant, a trait most bounty hunters typically shared. She was rude. Undisciplined. Dishonest. Cunning and smart as a whip, he'll admit, but dangerous.

Jules had been one of the many hunters who had tried to take the kid away from him when he first found him on Arvala-7. She put up an impressive fight, and in the end managed to escape alive. Something that could not be said for the majority of those he encountered.

So, when Greef Karga told him of the large bounty on her head, he did not hesitate to accept it. He had a score to settle. Not only for himself, but for Grogu.

"Black Sun is offering a heavy sum for bringing her in alive," he tells him.

Beside him, Grogu takes sips from a soup bowl and watches the two men curiously.

Karga points at him, "You sure you want to bring the kid with you on this one? Taxo won't play fair if she sees him. Why not leave him here with us? He could stay at the school."

"The kid goes wherever I go," Din responds, leaving to room for discussion. After everything that's happened, the only place he felt Grogu was safe was at his side.

Nodding in understanding, Karga leads the conversation back to business.

"There's no puck," he explains. "Do you still want it?"

Din nods, "What do I have to go on?"

"A last known location and a picture," Karga says as he began to dig through his jacket pocket. "This is what I know. Taxo ran off to some planet in the unknown regions to escape Black Sun. There, she was caught and taken to Klatooine where she escaped them a few days ago. That's where she was last reported."

"Taxo got caught?" Din was unable to hide his surprise. Everyone in the galaxy who knew of Jules's reputation would've had a hard time believing it. "By who?"

Karga sighs, "The Gotros brothers."

"Them?!" _They couldn't catch a bantha if it were right in front of them._ "How?"

"Ah!" the magistrate exclaims, pulling a disk out of his pocket. "Here it is!"

When he set it on the table, a holographic image shows a picture of a woman he has never seen before. And he was sure he'd remember a face like _hers_. The sound of Grogu's coos pulls his eyes away from the hologram, instead focusing on how his small, green hands stretch out to reach for the image. He likes the look of her too.

"She's beautiful, right?" Karga asks rhetorically, not giving him time to answer before continuing. "This is Jules' new face. The doctor who did the reconstruction told the Gotros brothers where she was headed. I guess she didn't count on his loose lips."

He scolds himself for getting momentarily distracted with Jules' reconstruction. Din extends his arm towards Grogu when he hears him coo again, and gently pulls his hands away from the hologram. He forces himself to find a flaw in her picture, but he can’t find any. Instead, resolving to compare her to the way that some flowers were poisonous despite their alluring appearance.

"Why did they take her to Klatooine?" he asks Karga.

"They stopped there to refuel," he laughs. "Apparently, they left her alone with a droid and that's how she escaped."

"That's it?"

"That's all I've got. Look Mando, a lot of bounty hunters are going to be after her when they catch wind of how much Black Sun will pay for her. I suggest you leave as soon as possible before she finds her way off that desert rock."

Din nods, setting Grogu back in his floating pram.

"Thank you," he tells his friend, before walking away and towards the Razor Crest.

"Looks like we're headed to Klatooine, kid."

***

Two days have gone by since you escaped the ship.

Two of the most frustrating days you've ever experienced in your entire life. For the remainder of your first day there, you spent the entire time in the alleyway. Too afraid to go out in the open in case they saw you. You barely slept that night either.

Basic survival instinct and years of living as a woman on Earth nagged at your decision to remain in a secluded space, alone in the dark. You couldn't be bothered, though, as exhaustion crept through your bones. You silently prayed for a break which you received. No one came into the alleyway that night.

The following day, you decided to carefully explore the city you were in. Turns out, your curiosity for the alien planet overpowered your fear. Being the fast learner that you were, two things became abundantly clear:

First, there was an obvious language barrier.

You could not read a single thing on this planet. No matter where you went, the written language was made up of strange symbols that were unfamiliar to you. Thankfully, some of the inhabitants spoke English, which you discovered they called _‘basic'_ , so at least you weren't completely lost.

Second, you were broke.

Their monetary system made no sense to you. _‘Credits’_ , as they were called, were something you did not have. Something that became abundantly clear the longer you went without food.

In spite of those things, you found yourself marveling at all of the new sights around you – the same ones that had sent you spiraling the day before. You felt alive walking through the foreign city as each step presented an opportunity to learn something else about the strange planet. Everything around you, from the alien creatures to the unfamiliar music to the clothing everyone wore, reminded you of how different it was from Earth. Different, but still beautiful.

The constant threat of being found remained in the back of your mind at all times as you wove through the unfamiliar streets, careful not to stray too far from the market. However, you must've been doing something right because you had yet to run into the blue men again. It made you wonder if they were either really bad at hunting people, or if you were just naturally good at evading your captors. You doubted it was the latter.

Halfway through that day, you realized that hiding your face would be the best course of action. You needed a face covering and had to find a way to get one without any money.

The day the blue men captured you on Earth, the weather channel had forecasted a cold front, so you left your apartment wearing a coat. One you were currently carrying around on the hot planet you were wandering through. It was your favorite one.

You sighed as you walked up to a market vendor who sold a variety of products.

"Hello?" you greeted, hoping the man spoke the only language you understood. Although he didn’t say anything, he looked up at you when you spoke, so you took that as a sign to keep going.

"I don't have any money," you started. _God, you sounded pathetic_. "But I have this coat. Would I be able to trade it for anything here that would cover my face?"

The man held out his hand for the coat and you handed it to him. He immediately held it up and began inspecting its quality. You furrowed your brows. Even with everything you've been through, the coat was still a hell of a lot cleaner than anything else he was selling. You decided not to voice that thought, though. Instead, choosing to bite your tongue.

"This coat can't get you any of the helmets,"' he said in a gruff voice. "But I can trade you a cloak for it. It has a large hood." 

You reluctantly nodded and he handed you a black cloak. As you were putting it on, he pointed at your necklace.

"That's a fine piece of jewelry you got there. If you give it to me, I'll throw in the best helmet I've got."

He held up a strange looking device for you to see.

"It's an Ubese raider helmet," he began to explain. "Not only does it hide your face, but the speech scrambler can mask your voice."

You looked at the helmet longingly. That thing was exactly what you needed. Your fingers danced around the pearl above your heart. Suddenly, it weighed a thousand pounds.

It was the only real reminder you had of your family back on Earth. If you ended up never seeing them again, this would be all you had left of them.

"No, thank you," you said, shaking your head. "It's not for sale."

Leaving it at that, you threw up the hood and kept walking. The cloak would have to do.

That night you couldn't sleep either, but it wasn't for a lack of trying. Curled up in the corner of the alleyway, your new cloak blending you into the night, your constant hunger pains kept you up. You hadn't eaten anything in two days, and it was starting to show.

Now, you stumble around the city, hoping to maybe trade off your shoes for a bite of anything to eat - You were _that_ desperate, when you hear something strange coming from behind a building nearby. Carefully, you creep over to investigate, a gut feeling telling you that finding out would be better than ignoring it.

When you round the corner, you see a tall burley man cornering an alien woman. From the looks if it, she was trying to shove him off, but he was too strong for her.

You desperately look around, trying to find a way to help her. Your gaze lands on a large metal pipe on the ground and you quickly grab it.

You huff when the weight of it settles in your hand. _This thing weighs a ton!_ Even at your most physically fit, you doubted you’d be able to carry it with ease. And you weren't exactly the picture of health at the moment.

You ignore that thought, focusing on helping the alien woman. Silently, you get behind the man. With his back to you, and his mind preoccupied with the woman, he hadn't heard you come closer. With as much strength as you can muster, you raise the metal pipe and swing it at the man’s head. It collides and the sick sound of bone crunching rings through the air as he falls to the floor. Unconscious or dead, it doesn't really matter to you.

The alien woman gasps and keeps staring back and forth between you, the unconscious man, and the metal pipe in your hand.

Your vision starts to get spotty. Clearly, you used up the little energy you had in you on this little rescue mission.

"You're welcome," was all you managed to slur out before the pipe fell out of your grip and you fell to the ground as well. Unconscious or dead, you didn’t really know.

***

When you wake up, you figure that you're dead.

That the soft light coming in is heaven and you're laying on a cloud.

"You're awake," you hear a woman’s' voice say somewhere near you.

As you fully regain consciousness, you find out with great disappointment that the cloud you were on was actually a bed and the light was coming from a nearby window. Your eyes land on the woman in front of you, the same one from before, who was sitting at the edge of your bed with a blaster pointed at you. She was a species that you observed was one of the more human-like. Her skin was a light pink color, and instead of hair, she had two long appendages that sat on the top of her head. Sitting up, you held your hands up in surrender, hoping to explain yourself but she beat you to it.

"You're Jules Taxo," she spit out. _Oh, great! This again?_

You start to shake your head, "N-No, no, you don't -"

"Don't bother denying it," she interrupts. "I saw your wanted hologram in the cantina."

You open your mouth to speak again but she cuts you off this time too.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to turn you in," she says lowering her gun. "You helped me out back there, so I owe you one, but I don't want any of your trouble."

You let out a breath of relief, "Thank you."

"You can stay here for the night," she adds. "I can give you some food too, you look like you haven't eaten in days." Your mouth waters at the sound of a meal.

"But you'll need to leave in the morning, Jules. Like I said, I don’t want trouble."

"Thank you so much," you say with a heavy sigh. "I appreciate everything you're doing for me, believe me, I do. But I am not Jules Taxo, so please don't call me that."

"What do you mean?" she questions so you explain your situation to her, thankful to finally have someone to talk to about it.

She listens carefully to all you have to say. Who you really were, how you were caught, and how you ended up wandering alone on a planet you never knew existed. You honestly couldn’t tell if she believed you or not, but it felt good to have someone listen to you after days of being on your own.

"You don't have to worry, I'll be out in the morning," you add when you’re done. "I just have no idea what to do after that."

"You need to find a pilot to take you to one of the Inner Rim planets," she says with a forlorn expression. "New republic officers will be able to help you better there."

"So, you believe me?" you ask, feeling hope sprout in your chest.

"I do," she nods, smiling at you. "My name is Krin, by the way."

"Thank you, Krin."

"You’re welcome, but I'm not the ones you have you convince."

"Right," you say, sitting up straighter. "So how do I get a pilot?"

"With credits," she sighs. "More than either of us have. Trust me, I've been saving up to move to the inner rim for years and am not even close to saving up for what these crooks around here will charge you for taking you there."

"I don't have any credits," you mumble more to yourself than to her.

The two of you drop the conversation there, choosing to eat dinner together instead. You follow her to the kitchen where Krin offers you a green soup that you graciously scarf down. It was bland, and didn't taste like much but in that moment, it became your favorite food.

After dinner, Krin told you about her life. How she spent her whole life on Klatooine (the planet you were on), and how her dream was to move to one of the inner rim planets and be a professional dancer. She told you about the war and the Empire, and how they brought destruction across the galaxy.

It amazed you to find out these things. So much was happening outside of Earth that nobody even knew about. Wars were waged, entire planets were being destroyed, millions of people died. And nobody knew about it.

"What do you know about Jules?" Krin asks you, bringing you back to the conversation at hand.

"Nothing. Except that everyone hates her, apparently."

"She's a famous bounty hunter," she told you. "Someone who hunts down people for money. Those guys are always loaded with credits."

Instantly her eyes lit up with an understanding that you did not share. You raise an eyebrow at her.

"I have an idea for how to get us a pilot!" Krin all but shouts at you.

"How? You said we couldn't afford one."

"But Jules can!" She looks at you expectantly, but you still do not understand.

"You said she stole your face, right? Well, automated bank teller machines work through facial recognition, and I'm willing to bet she updated her security before she went into hiding. If you used one of those machines, you'd have access to all of her credits. We could use them to get off world!"

You could barely believe it. "Would that actually work?"

"As long as she updated the security to her new face - _your_ face, it should," she says. "The only problem is that it would probably also alert those who are looking for you."

"So, if we wanted to do this, it would have to be quick," you confirm.

"Yes."

"Okay," you declare. "We'll go tomorrow."

***

The last thing he expected from this job was for it to be easy.

Din expected a challenge. With no tracking fob and only a location from a few days ago to go on, he assumed it would take him at least a couple of days to find which part of Klatooine she was on. His confusion could not have been more evident when he got a signal from a specific pinpoint location where she used facial recognition to extract credits.

He now had her exact coordinates. If fact, any bounty hunter in the system looking for her would have them now too. Was she trying to attract attention to herself? If he didn’t know any better, he’d say she was being sloppy on purpose.

Landing the Crest outside of the city that contained her coordinates, he wastes no time in navigating through the busy streets towards a bar. Everyone in his line of work knew that if you ever needed information on something illegal, a bar was the best place to go to. 

He keeps Grogu’s pram open while walking through the bustling market, careful to not let anyone steal what he worked so hard to keep, but at the same time glad to see the child beam at the exciting, new surroundings. As he moves down the street, everyone turns their heads to stare at him, clearly not used to seeing a Mandalorian. If he got too close, they would back away, unintentionally clearing a path for him. This was nothing new for him. In the beginning, the stares would make him feel raw and exposed despite the piles of beskar protecting him. Now, they were like grains of sand in the wind. Only a mild inconvenience to him.

When he reaches the bar, all activity stops for a moment. Again, he was the center of attention.

He stands still until everyone inside decides they had their fill of his image, turning back to their drinks and conversations. Din walks over to the bartender.

"What will you having?" the man asks him. _As_ _if he could accept._

"Information," he chose, and slid the bartender a couple of credits.

"What do you know about Jules Taxo," Din asks showing the man her holographic picture. He ignores the happy noise the child makes at it as he continues his questioning. "My sources say she's somewhere on this planet."

"I heard rumors she was on Klatooine," he says rubbing his chin. "But I've never seen her walk in here." he points to the picture.

"Is that all you know?" Din already knew this answer. 

"For the amount of credits you just gave me? Yes." 

His jaw clenches as he hands the man more credits.

"Ah! I remember now," he continues, pocketing his win. "This morning a lady wearing a Ubese raider helmet, which she was very adamant on keeping on, paid a local pilot an absurd amount of credits to take her and her Twi'lek friend off world."

"Do you know where they went?" Din presses, already tired of haggling for information.

"They wanted to get to the inner rim. The pilot could only take them as far as Pasaana, but they agreed to go anyways. That's all I know."

Din mulls over the information in his mind as the bartender left to go tend to the other customers. What would a bounty hunter like Jules want in the inner rim? Did she think she could hide better there? His instincts told him that there was something off about the whole situation, but he chose to ignore the feeling as he made his way back to the Razor Crest.

He would capture Jules in Pasaana.

***

You and Krin moved fast. By the end of the day, you two had already made it off world and were on your way to Pasaana.

She had been right about the credits, and after obtaining them, the first thing you did was go back to the vendor who you got your cloak from and properly paid for the helmet he showed you that day. Since then, you hadn’t taken it off and while it wasn’t the most comfortable accessory you’d ever worn, you preferred it to feeling so exposed. The helmet had more features than you knew what to do with, all of which would have been useful for whatever raiding it was designed for, but you only cared for the voice scrambler.

Krin also convinced you to buy some blasters for your protection. Even though you had no idea how to use it, you felt better knowing you had a for-emergencies-only weapon strapped to your hip. Hopefully, you’d never have to use it.

The trip to Pasaana had been nerve wrecking. The first time you flew through space you had been unconscious, so you didn’t really count it. This time, you’re fully aware of every little movement and drop in altitude as your hands grip your seat with such a force that it turns your knuckles white. It reminds you of being on an airplane and how you were never one for air travel to begin with. Even after the ship stops shaking as it enters hyperspace (a concept you could barely wrap your head around), and everyone was allowed to roam around you still stay glued to your seat.

“You must not have much space travel on Earth, huh,” Krin teases.

“We don’t have _any_ ,” you say, trying to keep your voice level in spite of the helmet’s delivery of your voice.

“That thing makes you sound like a broken droid.”

She wasn’t wrong. The scrambler on the helmet dropped your voice by a couple of octaves and made the sound coarse and choppy.

Much to Krin’s disappointment, Pasaana was another desert planet. You on the other hand can’t find a reason to complain. How many people back home get to go to different planets? _None!_ That thought makes you feel incredibly small.

Besides, Pasaana serves its purpose just fine. It got you away from Klatooine, which was where everyone thought Jules was going to be.

You only wish you could help more. Krin does all the work for both of you, seeing as she knows the languages and monetary system, and you can barely keep her in your line of sight as the new surroundings tempt you into distraction. You cringe at your position, lagging behind like a shadow and hovering around her conversation with the next group of pilots she found to take you to an inner rim planet. You feel like you’re watching a foreign movie without subtitles with enough context to follow the plot but not enough understanding to catch the finer details. When she nods at you, though, you immediately know what she wants, not needing to know the language to understand that nothing is done for free. So, you dig the pouch of Jules’ credits out of your pocket and set it down in front of her where she carefully pulls out the right amount and promptly gives it back to you for safekeeping.

They told Krin to meet them in the shipyard tomorrow morning, until then, you had the entire rest of the day to yourselves.

You both agree on finding an inn to spend the night in and seeing as you have so much time on your hands, you see no harm in ignoring the looming threat of the situation to go spend time in the city before you do. While Klatooine’s arid streets had been full of impatient characters and hard stares, Pasaana’s warm sand welcomes you both with a peaceful energy.

Its markets are different – calmer and more relaxed, giving anyone who walked through them the opportunity to enjoy themselves. You and Krin take advantage of this change of pace, making stops at every stand to see what each have to offer.

“I’m starving!” she says, pointing somewhere down the street. “That vendor’s selling something that smells amazing! Let’s go!”

Once there, she buys something (which to you, looks an awful lot like a charred squirrel) that’s skewered on a stick. You opt for a fruit instead, its shape roughly resembling a pare with a dark orange color. You’re about to take off your helmet to bite into it when a figure in the distance catches your eye by how much it stands out. At first you think it’s a droid by how its’ shine contrasts against the earth tones of the market, but as it moves through the crowds you realize it carries itself with aura all to powerful to be anything but a man. _Its armor_ , you realize and as if he heard your thoughts, his helmet moves to your direction and stills.

With his helmet on you can’t tell if he’s actually looking at you or not, and you hope that yours offers you that same privilege. The armored man does not look away from you, his stare only making your blood run colder with every second he holds it. You look away first, and its childish the way you feel like you lost.

“Let’s keep moving,” you tell Krin, fruit forgotten as you herd her further along your path, no longer able to keep putting off the reality of your situation. “We need to find an inn, it’s getting late.”

She protests but you push her along anyways, your paranoia heightening every time you realize that the armored man is still close no matter how many twists and turns you make through the stands.

Krin shouts your name and pulls you to a stop.

“What’s gotten into you?” she gasps, out of breath. “You’re going to tear my arm off if you keep dragging me around like this.”

“Someone’s following us,” you let her know, nodding in the armored mans’ direction to see him moving your way.

Krins’ eyes widen and now it’s her who’s pushing you to move, “RUN!”

You don’t think twice as you break off into a sprint. You’re pushing past the crowds and somewhere along the way you realize that Krin is no longer next to you. You frantically look around, only to find the armored man still hot on your trail. You only pray that you'll find her again eventually as you continue running.

You keep this up until you reach a dead end where the unused carts of the market are piled up high. If you could climb those, then maybe -

The sound of slowing footsteps behind you makes you spin. The armored man stands a few yards ahead of you, effectively cornering you like a runaway animal. Internally you’re screaming at yourself for allowing yourself to be chased into this position. You should have just gone to the inn to begin with.

The both of you stare at each other again much like before. This time, there is no question of who his gaze is directed to. For a moment, its quiet and the only thing you can hear is your heavy breathing amplified by your helmet. Can he hear it too?

Against the setting sun, his unmoving frame looks like a grand metal statue. The rich colors of the sky are beautifully reflected on his armor. If he weren’t trying to kill you, you’d say he looks like a knight from a fantasy.

You snap out of it and remember that you’re really in a nightmare. How were you going to get out of this one? The armored mans’ hand was hovering around something on his waist – his own blaster probably, prepared in case you were going to use yours – as if you could miraculously learn how to use it before he shot you down. You contemplate the probability of that scenario, but you doubt you would win a shoot out with this space cowboy.

“Jules Taxo,” he says loudly, the surprise of the sudden words making you jump. The voice is low, and it seems to shake the ground below you.

You don’t respond, only backing up, hoping to inch closer to the pile of carts. When you first saw them, it was hard to see how high up they went, but you hope that it was high enough to jump onto the nearby roof building. _That is, if he doesn’t shoot first._

“I can bring you in warm,” he starts, moving closer with every step you back away. “Or I can bring you in cold.”

“What the f-,” you whisper, biting back the curse and horrified at the threat. You stop your movements when your back touches the carts. The armored man stops advancing too, waiting for you to make the first move. It’s now or never.

You turn around and start to scale the pile of carts as fast as you possibly can. It’s clumsy and you probably look ridiculous, but you figure its better than being “brought in cold” refusing to even think about what that meant. You start to believe that maybe this sudden plan was actually going to work, but all of your thoughts stop cold when you feel a tight grip around your ankle trying to pull you down. You let yourself curse then, doing your best to grip the cart you’re on to resist him. You thought your slight head start would keep him out of reach. Evidently, you were wrong.

Your mind is ten steps ahead of your actions, trying to take in any detail that could get you out of this. The first thing you think of is his metal armor, so you latch on to that thought and let yet another desperate plan form. You seem to be doing a lot of those lately.

The armor should be heavy if it's made of metal, you think. His grip on your foot is too strong, and the more you kick, the more you risk losing you footing. But you have the high ground and maybe, if you let go and fell _just right_ , you'd be able to use the weight of his own armor against him in the fall. That might buy you a few seconds to run away again.

You let go of the cart and let yourself fall on the armored man. Your plan works. In his surprise, he let go of your ankle and you both fall back to the hard ground. You land on him harshly and hear him groan as the weight of himself catches up to him. You scramble to get off of him, doing your best to ignore how much your head is pounding with how hard you fell. The man did nothing to soften the landing.

Before you can get too far, the armored man, still on the ground, extends his arm out blindly to grab at you. His heavy hand reaches for your helmet hoping to pin you down, but he misses and instead finds a hold on the gold chain around your neck. You feel a sting as it’s snapped off.

“My necklace!” you gasp, the voice scrambler failing to hide your panic.

You’re both standing now, opposite of how you were earlier. His back is to the carts while yours faces the streets, and while he’s cornered and you have the chance to run away, all you can think about is the necklace that’s dangling from his fist. There’s a heavy pause in the air as no one moves. The armored man looks at the necklace in his hand and then back to you. Your hands flex, itching to grab it from him but you know that if you get close you won’t be able to escape him again.

He starts to move again, and you break out into a run. You’re sure he’s about to reach you any second now when you hear a high-pitched noise come from somewhere in front of you. A flash of bright blue zooms passed your face, and you fall to the ground. It barely missed you and you breath in gulps of air to calm yourself.

You lift your head up from the ground when you hear a familiar voice call your name. _Krin!_

“Come on!” she says when she’s close enough to pull you off the floor. “We have to get out of here before he wakes up.”

Sure enough, when you look back, the armored man is an unconscious heap on the sandy ground. You don’t bother to wonder how long he’ll stay that way before you and Krin race away to an inn.

When you arrive, your thoughts are either nonexistent or too slow to register. Probably a survival mechanism to keep you from freaking out. You’re barely able to catch the conversation Krin has with the innkeeper or realize you’re walking to a room. It’s when she locks the door and shuts the blinds that you’re able to tune back in.

“You never told me the people after you were _Mandalorians_!” she exclaims, pacing around the room.

“I don’t even know what a Mandalorian is!” you say, ripping off the helmet in frustration. “I’ve never seen him before! He wasn’t part of the group that captured me on Klatooine.”

Your hand inches towards your neck and you cringe at the absence of your necklace. You forgot to go back for it, you remember.

“Mandalorians are a race of crazy warrior people,” she sighs, sitting on the bed with her head in her hands. “If one is after us, then we’re as good as dead.”

The Mandalorian is not after her, you think dully. Its after _you_. Guilt weighs down on you like a heavy blanket. Because of you, Krin could get killed when she’s done nothing but help you survive. She didn’t deserve this.

“That stun better keep him down long enough for us to leave the planet. Hopefully, we can lose him.”

You acknowledge her comment with a hum, knowing well enough that you weren’t going to leave this planet together anymore.

***

Neither one of you slept as much as you should have last night, and despite her cheery disposition when she nears the ship you’re both supposed to get on, you can tell that Krin is incredibly tired. You are too, but the anxiety of what you’re about to do keeps you from fully admitting it.

As she starts to board, you grab her arm forcing her to stop moving. She turns, giving you a confused look.

“I’m not going with you,” you say directly.

“What?” She questions, yanking her arm from your grasp. “What are you talking about? Why?”

“These people are after me, not you,” you explain. “You’ve helped me get this far and for that I’ll always be thankful for, but I’m putting you in danger and can’t let you risk your life for me anymore.”

“No! Y-“

You place a bag in her hands, cutting off her protests. “Half of her credits are in here. Take them and start a new life in the inner rim like you wanted.”

“But what about you?” She asks and you can start to see tears forming in her eyes.

You blink back your own, thankful that you can at least hide yours behind the helmet. “Don’t worry. I’m keeping the other half of the credits.”

“I meant, what are you going to do?”

You pull her in for a hug which she returns with a tight squeeze. “I’ll be okay,” you tell her, hoping that you didn’t just lie to her. “I hope we see each other again.”

Krin laughs through a small sob, “And under different circumstances.”

“Thank you,” you tell her before pulling away, leaving the shipyard behind you.

You walk back to the city, head held high with determination forcing your steps, well aware that a certain armored man has been following you all morning.

***

Din forgot all about the Twi’lek companion.

That’s the first thought he has when he wakes up, groaning at the discomfort he feels when he’s able to stand. It’s been a while since he’s been stunned.

His second thought is more of an instinct as he looks around for the child’s floating pram. Much to his relief, and generous luck, it’s still next to him closed and protected. He pushes a button on his vambrace, opening the pram which reveals Grogu’s furrowed face. He lets out annoyed whines that Din assumes are from being shut in for as long as he’s been unconscious.

“I know, kid. I’m sorry,” he says, rubbing one of the child’s ears. “I’ll be more careful next time.”

Small complaints are replaced with distracted joyful noises as the child reaches out to the dangling object he didn't even notice he was still holding.

Din inspects Jules' necklace further, a delicate gold chain with a single pearl dangling from it. He remembers the way she froze when he took it from her. The way it seemed like parting from it was almost as much of a struggle as it was running away from him.

Not for the first time he finds himself thinking that this entire job has been strange. Jules had been easy to find in Pasaana as well. It wasn't hard to track the ships coming in from Klatooine and spotting her in the market crowd had been a simple task - her pink partner drastically stood out and not many people wore Ubese helmets while parading around a market. It was like she wasn't even trying to hide.

He also remembers her putting up a better fight the last time he ran into her. Why hadn't she used her blaster? Jules all but used him for target practice last time, and he was fully prepared for a shootout to occur. He even closed the child’s pram beforehand so he wouldn't accidentally get caught in the crossfire.

So why did she choose to climb the carts? It made no sense! She had to know that she couldn't have gotten far like that.

She was buying time for her partner, he reasons, trying to not to overthink. She's not stupid. She was toying with him while the other one got ready to shoot. If he had been paying more attention, he would have noticed it.

He stares at the necklace again, knowing that he should just toss it aside and let the winds cover it with sand overnight, erasing it from his memory. But he can't come up with a good enough excuse as to why he _shouldn't_ be allowed keep it. Din sighs and settles on pocketing it for some unknown reason, ending his distraction.

He still has to find her and now she had a head start. Mumbling a curse, he spends the rest of the night picking up her trail again which leads him to a shipyard the following morning.

From where he hides, Din can see that she’s about to board a ship. He starts to move out of his position, eager to prevent her from getting on and ending this assignment once and for all. But she stops and he witnesses a heartfelt goodbye between Jules and her partner before she heads away from the shipyard. He follows closely behind, confused as to where she’s going now that she didn’t board the ship.

She winds through the streets and he stalks her every move until she turns around and fixes her gaze in his general direction. No. Not his general direction – at him specifically. Din has enough experience with viewing life through a helmet to know when someone is looking directly at him. She holds the stare for a few moments before continuing her walk through the city. He understands through that wordless encounter that she wants him to follow her.

Hand on his blaster, he follows her steps until he sees her halt at the end of a secluded street. Jules turns around and removes her helmet.

Din doesn’t acknowledge the breath that escapes him and doesn’t dare think about how the holographic picture doesn’t compare to the real thing.

“I’m not going to run from you anymore, Mandalorian,” she says, shifting the position of her helmet beneath an arm as she holds her wrists out in surrender.

Her voice snaps him out of his daze, thankful that his armor hid the lack of composure on his face. Din clenches his jaw as he takes out his blaster, pointing it at her as he moves closer to her. She doesn’t move a muscle, only keeps staring with an unreadable expression.

He stops moving when he’s about a foot away from where she stands. He expects her to attack then, to pull out her blaster or to make a jarring movement that could potentially throw him off. Jules doesn’t do any of those things and he finds it just as unsettling that she is giving up so easily.

“If I go with you,” she starts, her voice set with steady resolve. “Will you leave the woman I was with alone?”

He wasn’t expecting that question but answers her anyways, “The bounty is on you. She is of no concern to me.”

Whether she was aware of it or not, she visibly relaxes at his answer. Jules nods, letting out a sharp exhale and extends her wrists out further.

“I surrender willingly, then.” Din cuffs her wrists quickly before she has a chance to change her mind. He’s about to begin leading her to the Crest when she adds a final condition.

“Just don’t stun me.”


	2. Chapter 2

As the Mandalorian confiscates your only weapon from where it hangs on your hips, all you can do is mentally pray that your decision to give yourself up doesn’t backfire horribly.

You’re not an idiot.

You understand that turning yourself in puts you in an incredibly dangerous position. And even though it’s too late now, you find yourself wondering if maybe you could have found a way to fix this mess while simultaneously evading all the bounty hunters that were after Jules. 

"Put the helmet back on," he orders, pausing your moment of self-doubt.

He gives you a second to do so, and you do your best not to drop it with your hands bound. The last thing you need is for him to see through the panic you were trying your hardest to hide.

As soon as you have it on, the Mandalorian settles the end of his blaster against your back, keeping it there as he guides you towards an unknown destination. You ignore the way it presses against your spine, the discomfort serving as a warning with every step you take. Instead, you choose to use this silent walk as an opportunity to think things through.

You figure that taking matters into your own hands is the best way to deal with this. Rather than constantly being on the lookout for hunters as you stumble through an unknown galaxy, you preferred turning yourself in. Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.

Again, you were not an idiot, you remind yourself. You have a plan. It's not well thought out and relies on a lot of "ifs", but it was still a plan.

 _If_ , the Mandalorian doesn't decide to kill you, you assume that he'll take you directly to whoever put the bounty on Jules. By that logic, you could also believe that he’d keep you safe from anyone else who tries to come get you. You doubt he’d let anyone else get the reward for your capture, especially if half of what Krin told you about Mandalorians was true.

 _If_ , you could get those people to listen to you, then maybe you could convince them that they had the wrong person. Surely in a galaxy where sentient robots and advanced space travel were possible there would be a way to double check the identity of a person. Right?

And _if_ by some miracle you got that far, then you’d find a way back home one way or another. The Mandalorian took your blaster, which to you was more of a prop anyways (he didn’t need to know that), but he never searched your pockets, so you still had the small bag of Jules’ credits. You pin that thought – it might save you later.

In the early morning, Pasaana’s sun casts a gentle warmth, and you could almost pretend you were taking a relaxing walk if it weren’t for the looming presence behind you. You don’t mind how the only sounds are the ones of both of your footsteps on the sand, in fact you prefer it. Surprisingly enough, the Mandalorian hadn’t sunned you like your previous captors, although you were sure it had more to do with the fact that he’d have to carry you the rest of the way, and not because you had asked him not to.

On the ground, you see three shadows. Your own, the Mandalorian’s, and a strange floating circular one. You’d noticed the flying metal sphere before, but never really gave it much thought as it followed your captor around. What a loyal droid, you think. It was definitely different from the few you’ve seen. It wasn’t one that walked, and it didn’t seem to have a designated function other than staying close to the Mandalorian. It also has yet to talk, but you weren’t exactly the expert on all things space technology, so you leave it at that.

Besides, its owner was much more interesting. He hasn’t said a word since the beginning of your walk, and you weren’t about to be the one to break the silence. From your peripheral vision you can see parts of his armor so you _know_ he’s behind you, but it’s slightly unsettling the way you can’t feel him near you at all. And although the blaster to your back is what’s physically pushing you forward; you’re half convinced that what really keeps you moving is the daunting energy he radiates.

You walk the rest of the way like this, one foot in front of the other in a quiet rhythm, past the city until he leads you to his ship. As soon as it comes into view, your feet stop moving involuntarily as if they were telling you that once you got on, there was no turning back. You suck in a breath as you take it all in. You know you’re new to how spaceships work but you think this one looked a little worse for wear. From its two giant engines to the landing gear, it looks to you like this ship was made out of pieces of scrap metal. The thought of that thing hurling you through space makes you lightheaded.

When the ramp finishes lowering, the Mandalorian harshly jabs you in the back forcing you to move again. As you walk up the ramp and into his ship you realize that the inside looks no better than the outside. You feel like you were walking up one of those rickety ramps at a county fair, unsure if it would fall apart as you walked up towards the ride.

Ahead of you an entire arsenal of weapons covers the wall.

“Woah,” you say to yourself, stopping in front of it. You’re glad he can’t see the way your eyes widen under your helmet. Different weapons, most being ones you’ve never seen before are hung neatly on the wall. Some are as small as the blaster he took from you and others you’re positive are bigger than you are. You’re not sure whether to be impressed or terrified.

One in particular looks like a giant rifle and you don’t realize you’re inching to get a closer look until the Mandalorian grabs your arm and drags you to the other side of the ship. You try to shake him off, but his grip is like iron as he ignores your sounds of protest.

Without saying a word, he forces your arms above your head and connects your cuffs to a nearby railing. Surely, this was excessive, you think. If he had asked you to sit and stay still, you would have listened. You narrow your eyes at him, but you quickly remember that he can’t see you.

“Can you at least take the helmet off of me?” You ask as he starts to walk away from you. “It’s a little stuffy.” In truth, it was more than a little. After a whole morning of walking in the sun, you could use the fresh air.

Maybe it was your imagination, but you swore he hesitated before placing both of his hands on the sides of your helmet. The Mandalorian carefully lifts it above your head, an incredible contrast to how rough he’s been with you since you met. You look up at him when it’s finally off, trying to see if his helmet gives any indication of who’s underneath, but all you see is your reflection in the T-shaped visor. You back away as soon as you realize how close you were to him.

“Thank you,” you say quickly, looking away as you will the heat to move away from your cheeks.

He doesn’t move and you keep your stare on the wall as if the slab of ordinary metal were the most interesting sight you’ve ever seen. What was only mere seconds feels like hours until he slowly walks away from you with his floating droid following closely behind. When you think he’s out of earshot you let out a huff of air, trying to calm your nerves and mind. Only to suck it back in again with a gasp when the Mandalorian’s droid opens revealing a small, green alien baby.

You don’t even try to hide your stare at this point as you take it in. It has long, pointy ears that stick out of the carrier ( _not_ a droid) and large, black eyes that widen when they land on your figure. 

The both of you stare at each other in silent surprise, as if it wasn’t expecting to see you either. The small child tilts its head to the side as it takes you in with a curiosity that matches your own. A small smile begins to form on your lips as you mirror the movement, even going as far to tilt your head in the opposite direction when it did it again. You weren't going to lie; the little green thing was cute. When you both straighten your heads, the baby giggles and the sound happily carries through the metal walls of the ship.

The Mandalorian is in front of the child in an instant, blocking it from your view. The smile falls from your face, but you refuse to be afraid.

"Is that your baby?" you ask.

It's an innocent enough question, but one that he does not take well. In three quick but purposeful strides the Mandalorian is towering over you again.

"Don't play dumb, Jules," he threatens, the tone of his voice intimidating enough to make you step back. _Still not afraid?_

"Stay away from him."

The baby coo's again, this time softer than before. You look passed the Mandalorian's shoulder and see the way the child's ears droop down. That's all you get to see before the carrier closes again.

This time you know the Mandalorian can see your pointed expression, but whether or not he cares is entirely unknown to you. He turns his back to you, ending the discussion, and makes his way to a ladder on the other side of the ship.

He makes it halfway there before you're unable to hold back your tongue any longer.

"You know, you've got the wrong girl!"

He stops, and for a second you think he's going to ignore you and keep walking, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t face you either, as if to let you know that what you have to say isn’t important enough to acknowledge, but just interesting enough to catch his attention.

"I'm not Jules Taxo."

There's a heavy pause in the air. Did he even hear what you said? With the helmet on, it’s hard to tell. Why didn't he take it off already?

You settle on repeating yourself and just as you open your mouth to speak, the Mandalorian walks away, disappearing up the ladder with the carrier behind him.

As best you can, you slump against the wall letting your head fall back against it with a sigh.

You didn't need him to believe you, you reassured yourself. You only needed him to take you to whoever put the price on your face.

***

Of course, he doesn’t believe her. Does she think he’s an idiot? 

Din is pacing back and forth in the cockpit. If only his carbon freezing unit hadn’t broken down right before accepting to take this job. He could have frozen her in carbonite as soon as she stepped on board and save himself the headache.

His conversation with Jules left an unfamiliar feeling behind to settle deep in his mind. Doubt. 

Grogu sits in the copilot chair, eyeing him nervously as he all but runs a hole through the floor. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” 

The child responds with a disapproving noise. 

Din shakes his head. “Don’t you remember what happened last time we ran into Jules? She could’ve killed you.” 

“ _She_ -,” he says, pointing down the ladder for emphasis, “- is dangerous. Don’t let her pretty new face fool you.” 

_Pretty?_ The sudden flicker of irritation he feels is enough to still him. The memory of the way she looked at him when he removed her helmet snakes its way to the front of his mind. If his own helmet hadn’t been in the way he was sure he would’ve felt her breath on his face with how close she was. He would be lying if he said the way she stood with her hands cuffed above her head didn’t stir something in him if only for one brief, annoying moment. 

Against his better judgement he entertains the idea of her telling the truth. That would explain why she was so easy to find and the pleasant change in behavior...

No. He stops that thought before it could develop any further. This whole thing was a trick. Jules failed to run away and that was a desperate attempt to try again. He doesn’t forget the way she paused by his weapons- if she got a hold of one of those, things could get difficult. Taking control of the Crest would make her nearly impossible to find since it doesn’t show up on any New Republic or Imperial databases. 

Yes. That has to be what she’s up to, he resolves, already feeling calmer than he did before. Besides, it wasn’t for him to question orders from the guild. They want the girl in the hologram and that’s who he’ll deliver. 

He turns to Grogu, a living reminder of what happened the last time he questioned a job - and possibly the only thing that’s brought him any sense of true happiness in years. 

_This isn’t like that time._

Din picks up the child and settles him in his arms. 

“I want you to stay away from her, _ad’ika_. Do you understand?” 

He interprets the baby noises as a sign of agreement. “Good.” 

Setting him back down on the copilot seat, he works on navigating the Crest off world. The sooner he got the job over with, the sooner he could forget about the whole thing. 

Streaks of racing stars paint the way ahead as the autopilot navigates through hyperspace. For the next hour, this would be the view until they reached the client. 

Din’s travelled with the child long enough to know when he was staring at him. As he watches the view of hyperspace, he feels Grogu’s eyes bore into his back. He doesn’t even need to turn to see him to know what he wants - what he always wants. 

“Wait here while I get you some food.” 

The child makes a happy sound. “And don’t touch anything.” 

When he reaches the lower level of the ship, he’s surprised to find it exactly as he left it. He didn’t put it past Jules to cause a mess, even with her hands bound, and he was certain she would have tried to catch him off guard this time. 

What he sees instead is Jules, still bound to the railing, leaning against the nearest wall. Her eyes are screwed shut and all color seems to have drained from her face. Upon closer inspection, he can see her inhaling slowly through her nose and letting out shaky exhales through her mouth, as if she were trying to calm herself down. It was hard for him to decide whether she looked sick or frightened. 

Before he can think of an answer, a deafening sound cuts through the air, quickly followed by a yelp from Jules’ direction. The sudden dip in the Crest’s position informs Din that it was one of the engines that blew. The ships alarms start to blare, illuminating the room with flashing red lights as they continue to lose altitude. 

“ _Dank farrik_ ,” he curses, struggling to regain his footing as the Crest begins to spiral. 

“What was that?!” He barely hears Jules’ panicked voice through the alarms. She scrambles to find a stable position without the use of her arms. The ship shakes violently, and she screams again. 

He needs to get back to the cockpit immediately, “Hang on.” 

Din starts to make his way back up the ladder, a task easier said than done in the ships current state.

“Not funny!” She yells when he’s already halfway up. “Where are you going?! Mandalorian! You can’t leave me down here! Come ba-“

He shuts the door on her as soon as he reaches the top, not having the time to feel bad about it.

All he has to do now is make sure they don’t die when the ship inevitably crashes. 

***

He leaves you screaming at the door. This is the second time now he’s left you talking by yourself. 

In your frustration you start to kick at nothing, trying your best to pull at your restraints but it ultimately gets you nowhere. 

The ship groans as you feel it turn, the sound of scraping metal and resisting gears makes the space impossibly loud. Something sparks a few feet away from you with a loud popping noise and you’re unable to hold back your shriek. 

And you thought airplane turbulence as bad? Oh, no. This was so much worse. 

As the ship continues to drop, you dodge the various items that get thrown about. The only things keeping you from being flung around too were the cuffs that were digging uncomfortably into your wrists. You laugh dryly at the incidental consideration from the Mandalorian’s part in leaving you strung up like this.

For a second, the ship regains its balance, only to fall back on its current collision course. He must be trying - and failing, you note - to steer the damn thing. You can’t help but realize that you wouldn’t be in this predicament if you had only followed Krin back on Pasaana. Since there’s not much you can do about it now, you opt to mutter prayers for your survival with every sudden drop. 

Your thoughts are only of your family as the alarms continue to scream for attention. Here you were, about to die a million miles away from home, and they’d never know. Tears threaten to fall from your eyes when you realize that you might not ever see them again. 

If the Mandalorian didn’t fix this soon, you might not ever see _anything_ again. 

Without any warning, you feel the ship bounce and you’re momentarily lifted off of your feet. The impact of it sends most of the Mandalorian’s things to the back of the ship. You let out a yell the second time the ship hits something and the sound gets sucked out through a hole that now tore through the wall. You’re barely able to let that add to your panic before the ship hits the ground again. Hard. You feel as if your arms are about to be torn out of their sockets as you’re jostled around. The ship finally skids to a halt, knocking the air from your lungs. 

For a moment everything is quiet, save for the sound of creaking metal, bursting electrical wires, and dying engines. When you remember to breath again, it smells faintly of smoke and gasoline. 

You hear the Mandalorian before you see him, his heavy steps ringing off the ladder as he takes in the damage. You notice the flying carrier following him and you’re honestly glad to know that the baby is okay. When he finally stands in front of you, you can’t decide whether you’re happy to see him or not. 

“I could’ve died down here!” You choose to yell. You should probably thank him for saving your lives, but you’re still mad at him for leaving you chained behind. 

The man only turns his head, continuing his scan of everything that’s been thrown about or lost via the the gaping hole in the ship. 

“What _happened_?” You ask, fed up with his silence. You try to lose the edge in your voice, telling yourself that this experience couldn’t have been pleasant for him either. 

“An engine blew,” he mutters as he walks closer to the hole. Rays of light shine passed him, bouncing off the walls and allowing you to see the full extent of the crash.

“There’s a town nearby,” he continues, although you’re not sure if he’s talking more to himself or to you. “We’ll get repairs for the ship there.”

“ _We?_ ” you question, toning down your excitement. You couldn’t stand to be attached to this fire hazard any longer.

“I don’t trust you with my ship.”

 _I’m not the one who crashed it_ , you think to yourself.

He picks up your helmet from the debris and you’re pleasantly surprised to see it in one piece.

The Mandalorian puts it back on you. You’re about to object, already uncomfortable with the way your hair clings to you underneath, but he beats you to it. “Keep it on.”

He reaches up and detaches your cuffs from the railing. Your arms drop and you wince at how your muscles already ache.

“What about these?” you ask, holding up your wrists to show him the cuffs he still hasn’t taken off.

Instead of answering, he raises his blaster at you and motions to the hole in the wall with a nod. You roll your eyes as you turn and walk through it, already feeling the end of the blaster against your back again.

You didn’t realize the ship crashed onto a forest planet until you saw the abundance of trees that now surrounded your party. After seeing nothing but desert and sand for what you assumed had been more or less a week, you couldn’t suppress your grin at seeing so much greenery.

Tilting your head up, you try to see how high the trees grow, as they seem to go on forever. The branches reach for the sky, covering your path in a cooling shade that makes your second walk with the Mandalorian a lot more comfortable than the first. Occasionally, a shadow moves above you and you catch a glimpse of the wildlife that run across the trees. Even though you know your helmet is limiting the view, dulling the colors through its filter, and muting a lot of the natural sounds, the novelty of the forest is still breathtaking. You silently wonder if the Mandalorian could experience its full extent, or if he too wished for more.

The little, green child must have also thought the sight was one to see because you keep hearing baby noises full of wonder from behind you. You imagine it sitting perked up in the carrier, immersed by the beauty of all this nature. 

Back home, the city you lived in chose high rise buildings over natural parks, never giving you the chance to stop and smell the roses. At the time, you didn't think you minded either. Life always moved too fast for you to give it any notice. And while your captor keeps the pace quick, you take in as much of it as you can, from the way the grass bends under your step to how the wind carries fallen leaves above you.

You estimate that it’s been half an hour before the trees start to thin out, giving way to the view of the town the Mandalorian must’ve been referring to. Unlike the ones on the other planets where the structures looked to be made of natural materials, this one had large, protruding metal buildings spread out across the landscape. You thought they stuck out horribly against the serene picture of the forest. Before you could take another step toward it, the Mandalorian holds his arm out causing you to stop.

“Stay close when we get there. Don’t touch anything and let me do all the talking.”

You nod despite hating the way he made you feel like a second child he had to drag around. He starts walking by your side this time. You note how his blaster is thankfully put away. Not that you think he trusts you any more than he did a second ago, but it does make the walk less stressful. He stops right before you reach the entrance of the town and you do the same.

His helmet turns down and you realize he’s looking at the cuffs on your wrists. “Keep those covered when we cross,” he orders. “I don’t want to draw any more attention to ourselves than we already will.”

“You can just take them off, you know,” your modulated voice rasps, making you sound less genuine than you want. “I promise I won’t run away.” He can’t see the innocent smile you’re offering, but you hope it translates through your tone.

"No." End of discussion, you gather, and the smile drops.

He looks away and doesn't wait for you before beginning his advance towards the town. You mouth an " _Okay_ " behind his back and pick up your pace to follow him, hiding your bound hands underneath your cloak.

The town looks more modern than you expected. As you follow the Mandalorian through the streets, flashing signs and hovering vehicles can be seen all around. Everywhere you turn, something new catches your attention. It's hard not to stop and stare in amazement.

Wordlessly, he guides your group to one of the buildings. Various machines are parked outside, each with sets of tools and grease-stained rags scattered around them or on nearby tables. You didn't need to know how to read the sign to understand that this was a mechanic. The door to the shop slides open and once inside, the Mandalorian turns his head to you with a stare that reminds you to " _not touch anything_." Once he got his silent point across to you, he shifts his attention to the owner.

You hear him start to explain the ships situation, but you tune out the exchange once you notice how fast the shop empties of its customers. People’s expressions would go from pleased shopper to distressed individual when they saw your armored companion. You’d think they were the ones a bounty on their head with how fast they’d exit the store.

You frown, thinking it was extremely rude, but the Mandalorian didn’t appear to notice it. Or if he did, he didn’t care. Did this happen everywhere he went?

You don’t get the chance to feel sorry for him for too long before your attention is redirected back to the conversation that was growing louder by the second.

“2,000 credits?!” You hear the Mandalorian protest and see the baby shrink into his carrier. “That price is too high. I can pay half.” He sets down the money on the counter.

The shop owner shakes his head, “Half will only get you enough to patch up the hole and cover the fee to haul the parts to your location. It’s not enough for an engine replacement of your ship’s model.”

You see the Mandalorian’s fists start to clench at his side. “Where am I supposed to get 2,000 credits?”

You become hyperaware of the pouch of credits you have in your pocket in that moment.

“Not my problem, _bounty hunter_ ,” the owner sneers. “If you can’t pay, then get out! You’re scaring away my paying customers.”

Your hand rests on the outside of your pocket. Would that even be enough? It definitely _looked_ like it was more than what he put on the counter. You chew your bottom lip as you think it over. On one hand, the credits were the only safety net you had for the future. On the other, travelling with the Mandalorian was your best chance at getting your bounty removed – something you couldn’t do if he didn’t have a functioning ship.

You make up your mind, hoping you didn’t end up regretting it later. Without letting the cloak reveal your cuffs, you dig the pouch of credits out of your pocket and drop it on the counter. “Is this enough?”

Both men turn to you as if they only now realized you’ve been there the whole time. The Mandalorian alternates his gaze between you and the bag that has yet to be opened. The shop owner picks it up and peers inside. _Please be enough. Please be enough. Please be enough._

His eyes widen and he pockets the bag immediately.

“This will do,” he says in a way that makes you feel like you unknowingly overpaid.

***

“Where did you get the credits?” The Mandalorian demands when you get back to his wreck of a ship.

He hadn’t said a word to you since you left the mechanic, and after marching the whole way back in a tense silence, you gathered that somehow you had made him mad.

You didn’t understand. You paid for his parts and he couldn’t at least pretend to be appreciative. If it weren’t for you, he’d still be back there haggling over prices or even worse, the shop owner could have thrown them out without any of the parts they needed.

“Jules’ bank account,” you finally answer. You see him stop unloading the repair pieces and shake his head before continuing. It was clear that he still didn’t believe you. 

“How much did you give him?” _About that…_

You bite the inside of your cheek. “I don’t know.”

“You _don’t_ _know_?” The Mandalorian drops what he’s doing. “What do you mean you _don’t know_? You gave him all your credits!”

The helmet suddenly feels suffocating so you take it off. “Look, I don’t understand your monetary system, so I don’t know how much was in the bag. Does it even matter? You got your parts in the end, anyways.”

“I told you to let me do the talking, ” he says, making his way to where you are. “The mechanic ripped you off, Jules.”

You stand your ground reminding yourself how underneath all that armor was just a man. You hope…

Come to think of it, you’ve never seen him without the armor on. He was definitely shaped like a man, but for all you know he could be some alien species you have yet to see.

“I already told you,” you start, pushing your thoughts of him to the back burner. “I’m. Not. Jules.”

“That’s not going to work on me.”

“Well, it’s the truth.” You refuse to look away, determined to win this stare down. When the Mandalorian turns away first, you bite your tongue to keep a smirk form forming. Behind him, the baby laughs, and you shoot him a secret wink.

The Mandalorian stalks off to where the repair parts were now propped up against his ship. “Fixing this will take a few days.” He doesn’t bother to mask the displeasure in his tone.

You go to stand next to him and grimace at the damage. “How are we going to do that?”

“ _We_ aren’t going to do anything,” he snaps, grabbing the links on your cuffs and dragging you by them to the nearest tree. “ _I’m_ going to fix my ship-”

He attaches your cuffs to one of the branches. Thankfully, it was one of the low hanging ones.

“-and _you’re_ not touching anything.”

“Oh, come on! Is this really necessary?” you protest. “I can help you.” In truth, your mechanical skills were limited to only the basics. But you were a fast learner, and more importantly, desperate to get out of your binds.

“I doubt that.”

It takes the Mandalorian about three hours to eat his words.

After sending many glares in his direction with every time he denies your offer of help, you finally make peace with the idea of being shackled to a tree for the rest of the day. You spend the better part of the afternoon figuring out how to get comfortable with your hands in such an awkward position.

From where you’re sitting the only view available is that of the Mandalorian slowly reducing the damage on his ship. Every so often his child, having grown restless in the carrier, would wander around his workspace. Sometimes, the baby would look at you with those huge, adorable eyes and tilt his head like before. Not wanting to give the Mandalorian another reason to be mad at you, based on how he reacted the last time you entertained the child, you reluctantly chose not to indulge him.

But now, you watch as your shiny companion repeatedly fails to hold up a metal panel and weld it to the ship at the same time. Every time it falls from his hands you hear him mutter curses and the sounds only fuel your amusement.

When the panel falls again, he reluctantly turns to look at you and you meet his gaze with a smug expression. “Need any help?’

He turns away immediately and tries again. It doesn’t work.

Your self-satisfaction could not have been more apparent as the Mandalorian makes his way over to you. His hands hover over the cuffs for a moment, “If you run, I’ll shoot you.”

“Why would I have paid for your repairs if I was going to run? I already told you, I don’t need these.”

You can tell that he can’t argue with the truth in your words. His fingers twitch and the hesitation almost has you crying out, but with a few specific clicks of different buttons, your wrists are finally free. They’re raw and chafed, your skin stings, but the cool forest air against them has you sighing in relief.

“Just be quiet and hold up the panels while I secure them.” With that order shoved your way, you got to work. 

The rest of the day goes by like that. There’s a silent rhythm you both stick to. No unnecessary talking; just working. As you hold the panels up, the Mandalorian was able to noticeably work a lot faster - an observation that you decide to keep to yourself. His hands work deftly, handling the welding and wiring with an impressive skill that you couldn’t help but to admire. It was almost delicate, much in the way that you’d only seen him act around his child.

Multiple times you catch yourself staring at the way the sparks of the welding tool would look like little stars against his helmet. Sometimes his face would be so close to the flame that you found yourself trying to see if the light could shine through the visor. It never did, and your hopes that you’d be able to at least see his eyes were snuffed. 

The work continues and you finish the first set of panels together as the sun begins to set. Accumulated exhaustion from the past few days - not to mention the recent crash, start to latch onto your bones making you feel like a weighted blanket was just draped across your shoulders. You haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in days and it has you forgetting what it was like to rest for more than a few hours. 

It seems you’re not the only one desperate for a nap and you don’t get too much time to reminisce about your ruined sleep schedule before a certain green baby starts to get fussy. Just a few feet away from you, he plops down on the ground, his face scrunched up in a way that tugs at your heartstrings. When small cries start erupting from him it’s enough to have you instinctively rush to console him. 

You go to pick him up off the ground, arms stretched out and already bending down when the Mandalorian beats you to it. In a swift movement he manages to hold the child with one arm and point his blaster at you with the other. It has you stumbling back when you lift you head and are met face first with the end of his weapon. 

“I was only trying to help,” you say, slowly bringing your hands up to show you meant no harm.

You’ve had that stupid thing pointed at you so many times already that you’ve started to become desensitized to it. If anything, you feel more inconvenienced by it than threatened. You recognize how that should be a thought that raises concern but seeing as you’ve got more immediate things to worry about, you add it to the long list of unsettling space things that you’d worry about later. 

“I told you to stay away from him,” he all but growls at you. The child’s cries were now reduced to quiet whimpers as he anxiously turns his head between you and the Mandalorian.

Anger starts to bubble in your chest with each coarse word he says, “What is your problem?!” 

You neither appreciate nor understand why he speaks to you in such a short tone every time he _does_ decide to talk to you.

“ _You are_ ,” he spits, stepping closer and positioning the blaster underneath your chin. Your breath hitches. Okay, now you remember why you were supposed to be afraid of blasters.

“And don’t think that I won’t kill you if you ever try to lay a finger on him again.” 

By now the sky has gotten a lot darker, shrouding the forest in anxious darkness. Without the light of the sun to bounce off his armor, the Mandalorian almost blends in with the night and you can only see his silhouette like an ominous shadow. You feel him tilt the blaster up, forcing your head to move along with it. It’s too dark now to see the features of his helmet, but you know you’re looking directly at it. Somehow that’s worse, you think, knowing for a fact that he can see you when you’re desperately trying to get your eyes to adjust to the dark. 

His shape moves, taking the blaster with him and you finally allow yourself to breath when you hear his footsteps walking away from you. His absence reveals the stars that were behind him. You stay looking up, paralyzed, and hoping to find comfort in them, but the unfamiliarity of their patterns only highlight how alone you feel.

You feel around your neck, forgetting again that your necklace was taken from you. It leaves a pit in your heart and not for the first time you feel like letting the dam behind your eyes break. But what good would crying do? It won’t bring your necklace back, and it won’t get you any closer to home. You sniffle, pulling yourself together because you still had a long way to go. 

The Mandalorian was back in his ship, leaving you out of his sight for the first time since you’ve met. To your surprise you noticed that he left you unbound too. Unbound and unsupervised. Staring ahead at the forest, it felt infinitely more inviting than the ship you spent most of the day working on. You allow yourself to wonder how far away you could get before the Mandalorian shot you down as promised. Not very far- even in your imagination. 

You shake your head and sigh, turning around to walk to the ship. Running won’t solve anything but maybe some sleep would help you feel less overwhelmed. Walking through the hole, which was now half fixed, you settle yourself against a wall, pulling your knees to your chest to make yourself as small as possible. If you were lucky, the Mandalorian would stay in the upper levels the entire night. 

Light pours into the ship, waking you from a night of restlessness. You rub your eyes and will your legs to carry you outside. A layer of morning mist spreads across the forest, hiding the trees that were further inland. Behind you, the sound of metal against metal informs you that the Mandalorian was hard at work. You turn, seeing him perched on his ships broken engine- not unlike a vulture, prying away the damaged parts.

A sudden rustling sound behind you makes you whip back around. The noise stops and with the fog in the way, you can't see a thing. Your eyes narrow, trying in vain to see through it _. Must’ve have been an animal._

You look back and see that the Mandalorian was still working, unbothered by the noise you just heard. If he wasn’t worried by it, then neither should you be.

It still catches you by surprise, making you jump when you hear the rusting again. This time louder. Closer, even. Much like a stupid teenager in a horror movie, you take tentative steps towards the trees. When nothing happens, you let your shoulders drop. It was too early to be this jumpy, you thought, feeling ridiculous. Probably from your lack of a proper breakfast, too.

Three figures arise from the mist. You expect your eyes are as wide as dinner plates at this point. Wide and full of a fearful surprise. These aliens were new to you. Covered in scales from their horned heads to clawed feet, and staring at you with intense red eyes, they look like terrifying lizard people.

“Well, well,” taunted the tallest one, revealing his set of pointed teeth. “What do we have here?”

You start to back away with a cry for help stuck in your throat.

A smaller one takes another step forward, a horrifying smile spreading on his face, “Where do you think you’re going?”

You run away from them then, screaming for the Mandalorian when you near the ship again. He flies down between you and the lizard people before they get the chance to get too close, and it’s the first time you notice he has a jetpack. If you weren’t scared out of your mind right now, you might have found the time to be impressed by it.

Everyone stills, the lizard men separated from you only by the Mandalorian. Two of you, and three of them. You did not like those odds.

"Give Taxo over to us, Mandalorian," the taller one hisses, "and we'll consider letting you live."

His two companions laugh, an awful cadence that has the hairs on the back of your neck sticking up.

“Leave now,” the Mandalorian threatens, cutting off their laughter, “and I’ll consider killing you quickly.”

It all happens too fast for you to properly process. The taller one yells an order at one of his partners, and you’re suddenly doing your best to run from one of the lizard people while the other two attack the Mandalorian.

The one after you is smaller and rounder but frightening all the same. He tries to grab at you, but you duck and roll, narrowly missing his deadly claws. With a snarl, the reptilian continues to chase you. Not noticing an uplifted tree root, you trip and fall on your back with an involuntary cry. The lizard man hovers above you, going to grab his blaster. You start kicking blindly, surprised when your foot repeatedly hits him, and he staggers back. Something falls a few feet ahead of you and you both lock eyes on it, freezing for just a moment. It was his blaster.

You snap out of it first, scrambling to get it as he claws at air with every time he misses you. You pick it up, pointing it at him and he stops in his tracks. With a hiss he stares at you, probably figuring out the best way to disarm you of his own weapon. You’ve never shot anyone before and your heart pounds in your chest. You aim for his leg- not wanting to become a wanted bounty hunter _and_ a murderer as well. Your hands tremble as you squeeze the trigger.

Click. Nothing. And your blood runs cold. Why didn’t it shoot? _Shit._

“Shit,” you voice, looking between the blaster in your grip and the reptilian who was coming at you. As you run, you try to shoot again. Click. Nothing.

“Turn the safety off!” the familiar voice of the Mandalorian yells at you. From the corner of your eye, you see him fighting off the other two hunters. He has one in a chokehold as the other one lies unconscious on the ground next to him.

You press a random button on the blaster as you duck another swing from the lizard man. You point again. Click. _Still Nothing._

“Which one is the safety?!” you frantically ask. You’re growing tired of running and any minute now the lizard hunter would surely catch up to you.

“It’s the switch next to the trigger!” the Mandalorian directs at you but he keeps his focus on the reptilian that escapes his grip.

While they continue to fight, you find the switch before being thrown on the ground. The lizard man pins you down and he bares his razor-sharp teeth at you. He goes to bite at you, and you simultaneously aim the blaster as best you can, pulling the trigger. This time, a flash of red light emits from the end with a high-pitched noise. The body on top of you gets rigid and slumps down on you. You still for a second, not believing it was over. When the weight becomes too much, you shove him off and he rolls to the side with his mouth still open and a horrible burn mark on his chest.

You sit up and the only thing you can hear is your breathing and the echoing noise of the blaster you just shot. Looking over, you see that the Mandalorian is all right with two bodies next to him. No doubt in the same condition as the one next to you. You look down at it. It’s terribly still. A different kind of still than when you knocked out the man on Klatooine. You never once thought for a second that you actually killed that guy.

Your hands are shaking, still gripping the blaster tightly, but you can’t bring yourself to look away from the body. When he was attacking you, shooting him did not seem like such a bad idea. It was the only idea; you try to reason. Besides, you only meant to injure him. Not _this._ You refuse to give a name to what you actually did.

“Get up. We have to get rid of them,” the Mandalorian tells you and you realize then that he’s right next to you. He sounds miles away.

“I need a minute,” you mutter, your voice sounds distant, even to you.

“We don’t have a minute,” he says, grabbing you by the arm. “Get up.”

You snap out of your haze then, yanking your arm out of his grip and seeing red in the shape of the Mandalorian, “I said, I need a minute!”

***

Din steps back at the outburst.

Leftover adrenaline brings his hand to his blaster, immediately ready for Jules to finally attack. He keeps his eyes trained on the one she holds but doesn’t point at him. 

She’s pacing, he notices. Her steps taking her back and forth between where he stands and the Trandoshan she killed.

“Oh my god,” she keeps repeating, each time faster and more breathless.

“I just -” Jules halts in front of the body, her words abruptly cutting off as fast as she stills. He sees her stare at the blaster mark on the body, glassy eyed with shock. She remains motionless, save for her hands that have not stopped trembling this entire time. 

Her breaths become more erratic when she looks down at the blaster in her hand. Jules lets it fall to her feet as if holding it any longer would cause her more pain, and she’s backing away from it not a second later. 

Without a weapon in her hand, Din cautiously loosens his grip on his blaster. He doesn’t understand why she’s acting like this. Bounty hunters like them were not new to killing. 

“I -“ her words cut off again as she tries to start the sentence she can’t manage to finish. Jules takes a deep and shaky breath, closing her eyes as if to ground herself in the moment. When her eyes open, she’s looking behind him, an almost inaudible gasp leaving her. 

She looks at him, pointing at the bodies to his back, and he sees her eyes are brimming with tears, “And you got _two_ of them.” The words sound hollow. Directed more at him then to him.

“Oh, God,” she cries again. Her feet pick up the pace of her previous trek. Wavering hands grasp at her neck. The way she closes an empty fist at the base of her collarbone has him thinking of the necklace he took- the one he feels could burn a hole through his pocket the more he looks at the desperation in her face. Is that what she wants? Would that make her feel better? 

Din shakes his head. He didn’t have time for this, “We have to move them away from the ship. Pull yourself together.”

He knew his words were harsh, but it got her to stop the incessant pacing. Her face grows hard, lips forming a tight line as harsh steel eyes attempt to pierce through his helmet. She gets unnervingly quiet. 

“You know,” Jules says after a minute, her voice now backed by a fuming edge. “You didn’t even say _thank you_.”

His brows furrow. Did he miss something? “What” 

“Back at the mechanic!” She says that as if it clarifies anything for him. “I wasted all of my money on your stupid ship, and did you say thank you?” Her voice elevates with every stomp coming his way. 

“No!” She answers for him. 

Din stays quiet. He knows she can’t be mad at _that_. If she really had a problem with his lack of manners, she could’ve said something before. This anger is misplaced; directed at him because there’s no one else around to blame for whatever was actually troubling her. Nonetheless, he’s surprised by the outrage. 

“You’ve been nothing but awful to me since we’ve met,” she continues, her words still sharp and accusing. “What have I done to deserve that?” 

He’s had enough of this. “Jules-“

“Stop calling me that!” 

Din actually steps back, thrown off by her outcry. Her glare on him doesn’t waver and something about it has him wishing the Trandoshans he killed back to life just so he’d have something else to focus on.

“I told you before! I’m not Jules!” 

He raises an eyebrow. Was she still trying to keep up her charade? He had to admit, her determination to it was impressive.

“I didn’t ask for any of this,” she says, voice breaking.

She turns around and faces her victim, tears falling down her face freely now. “And now I’ve k-killed someone.“ Her voice is faint, his helmet being the only reason he was able to hear it at all. It doesn’t hide how strained the words were.

“I don’t understand why I’m being chased around the galaxy for something I didn’t do. I don’t understand anything that’s happening to me, and I’m ... ” 

Her rapid words trail off and it takes him a second to realize she’s looking right at him. 

He processes everything he hears, but the gears in his mind are turning too slowly. A gut feeling, the same one that recognized something was off about this job from the very beginning, tells him she’s telling the truth. 

He forces himself to study her, not ready to let himself believe it yet. She’s wrapped her arms around herself, tightly clinging to the material of her cloak. All her fight from earlier is gone, replaced with a resigned exhaustion. This isn’t the bounty hunter he was told to find. 

“...I’m scared,” she finally tells him, her words painfully whispered. 

Something locks into place, and suddenly Din doesn’t see Jules anymore. Instead, he sees _you_. A puffy-eyed, frightened woman. He feels like a complete jackass. 

“ _Dank farrik_ ,” he sighs. “You’re telling the truth, aren’t you?” 


End file.
